


Playboy

by LandOfBreathAndDeath



Series: Three things [2]
Category: The Batman (Cartoon)
Genre: Bruce also hates those things, Dick hates galas, Homework, Models, The family that hates together copes together, and nightmares, in that order, in that order as well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 19:05:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8025457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LandOfBreathAndDeath/pseuds/LandOfBreathAndDeath
Summary: Gotham's most eligible bachelor knows how to put on a show.





	Playboy

**Author's Note:**

> lmmao i couldn't think of a good summary for this and please forgive the typos i should be doing homework and im NOT because I'm not in control of my life anymore lmao

Playboy.

_“Gotham’s most eligible bachelor – is he gay?”_ Elisa Bennet on GBC 6 smirked at the camera. _“We get an in depth and exclusive interview with one of Wayne’s ex’s about his night time habits. Find out more, after the break.”_

Bruce sighed as Dick bounded into the room. He was still dressed in his school uniform, which seemed to be splattered in ketchup. He had a black eye that made Bruce stop.

“Another fight at school?”

“I could’a taken him,” Dick grumbled as he sat next to his mentor. “But I thought of the code. The code made me get this black eye.”

“You can defend yourself, Dick. You just can’t kill anyone. Now, c’mon, let’s get some ice on that eye.”

Dinner was a quiet affair, as it usually was. Dick complained when Batman told him that he needed to stay in and do homework. But he cleared off his plate and went to the living room to finish his algebra homework. Bruce checked in on him before heading to the Batcave for his nightly patrol. Dick’s eyebrows were furrowed together in concentration as his pencil scribbled across the paper. He stepped away, heading for the grandfather clock and the Batcave. Alfred entered right as he descended, holding a bag of ice for Dick’s eye.

“Master Dick, did you know Master Bruce lost many fights when he was a child?”

“Really?” Dick’s pencil stopped.

“Quite. Growing up in Gotham isn’t easy, but it’s even worse if you’re as stubborn as Master Bruce.”

“How did he learn to fight?”

“Tibetan monks,” Alfred hummed. “Continue your homework, Master Dick. Master Bruce has a gala event later this evening, so he’ll be back soon. You’ll be joining him.”

Dick’s jaw dropped. “Ugh! But I hate those fancy dinners! My hand gets tired of shaking everyone else’s hand.”

Once Alfred left, Dick turned on the tv. Elisa Bennet sat in a plush, grey, lazy boy recliner, her red lipstick smeared so thickly on her lips that they looked like red bananas on her face. Dick finished his algebra, pushing it away as Bruce’s name was mentioned.

_“Anyway, I had a date with Bruce. We were supposed to go to the Gotham Metropolitan Museum of Art and then back to his place. But while we were at the museum, his phone went off. I mean, honestly, who leaves their phone on during a date!?” The woman ran her hand through her blonde hair. “Then, all of the sudden he said that he had a situation come up. That he needed to leave immediately. He said he would come back, but he never did.”_

_“So he left you, and never came back. Did he ever call or write to apologize?”_

_“He sent me some flowers and a note – But that doesn’t make what he did right!”_

_“Indeed. In fact, we have an exclusive of image of where Bruce Wayne after he left you.” Elisa smiled, and the image of Bruce with Alfred appeared on the screen. “Who is this old man? Do you recognize him, Tatiana?”_

The woman, Tatiana, squinted at the image. The camera zoomed into her face so it filled the entire screen. Dick burst out laughing.

_“That’s his butler! I never imagined they were an item! How disgusting.”_ Tatiana scoffed.

“Is that homework finished, Master Dick!?” Alfred shouted. He flinched, pulling out his history homework.

“Uh, nearly, Alfred!”

“I should hope so. That Elisa Bennett is nothing but a fame hungry reporter.”

Dick sighed, watching as Tatiana began a sob story about how Bruce Wayne was supposed to be the one. It seemed every week there was a new story about how Bruce Wayne was gay, or secretly married, or a vampire, or was just a crazy inmate that somehow escaped Gotham. Gotham loved its conspiracy theories about Bruce almost as it loved the Batman. He finished up his homework right as Bruce stepped back through the grandfather clock.

“The Media says you are gay today.” Dick informed him.

“Is that all?”

“And Alfred said I’m going to a gala with you. Do I have to?” Dick nearly whined.

“Yes, you do. Go get dressed, Dick. We’re leaving in twenty.”

Dick always hated putting on dress suits. Especially the ones that he had been fitted for. The material always seemed itchy. It also got stuck in his butt a lot. But with a lot of hopping around his room and falling a few times, he managed to get into his suit and dress shoes. Dick walked down the stairs, glaring at Bruce and Alfred with bright animosity.

“I hate this,” Dick grumbled as he joined his mentor and friend at the bottom of the grand staircase.

“Me too. Let’s head out now so we can leave early.” Bruce nodded, heading for the door with Dick dragging his feet behind him.

They took the Tesla to the event. Bruce had given Alfred the night off, so he would be driving. There were times that Bruce’s driving was borderline insane. The Gala was located in the Gotham history museum, which was a twenty-minute drive from the manor. The Gala started 8 o’ clock sharp, and it was 7:50. They arrived at the Gala three minutes after it started. Gotham’s richest and most famous strutted down the extravagant red carpet as blinding, repetitive flashes from cameras. Bruce pulled Dick in for a few photos, who struggled at first, then slumped. Bruce ended up dragging Dick into the Gala. 

“Commissioner Gordon and his daughter Barbara should be here.”

“Okay!” Dick grinned for the first time that night. He ran off through the crowd, searching for his friend. Bruce turned his attention to the models that were coming his way.

If the media thought he was gay, then he would give them a field day. He reached his arms out, welcoming the trio of models. 

“Having a good night, ladies?”

“Hello,” they all grinned. “We are, Mr. Wayne.” One of them chimed.

“Then let’s order some drinks.” 

An hour and about 20 drinks later, Bruce was feigning drunkenness with the young models, Astairia, Karlie, and Brittany. Dick had joined Bruce, yanking on his hand. It was time to go, and the media had taken sufficient pictures of him. The Gordons had left twenty minutes ago, leaving Dick even more bored than before. He slid his glass of coke back and forth between his hands as one model screeched with laughter.

“Oh, Brucie! You are so silly!” Astairia cackled.

He chuckled, winding a hand around her waist. “What do you say we take this back to my place?”

“Oh!” She crowed, leaning into his embrace. Dick looked over at Karlie and Brittany, who were glaring daggers at Astairia. 

“Dick, go get the car ready,” Bruce spoke as he rose with Astairia. The young acrobat grumbled as he heading for the front entrance. He handed the ticket to parking valet, who nearly sprinted to get the Tesla.

As Dick waited for the car to be brought around, he called Alfred.

“Yes, Master Dick?”

“He’s bringing a few friends home,” Dick grumbled.

“I see. Would you like me to prepare some mac and cheese?”

“Please, thank you, Alfred.” He hung up and turned right as Bruce walked out.

“Astairia, Karlie, Brittany, this is Dick. He’s my son.” Bruce finally introduced them. Dick nodded at the ladies, who were all glowering at him. The Tesla pulled up and Dick climbed into the passenger side. Bruce couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his face. Dick hated when Bruce brought women home. It wasn’t that he was afraid of being kicked out, it’s just that the women would try everything they could to stay at the Wayne manor. A few times a couple girls tried saying they were pregnant. That usually ended with Bruce informing them that even though he used a condom he was also on male birth control.

The car ride was quiet. Occasionally, one of the models in the back would sigh unhappily. When they arrived at the looming Wayne Manor, Dick leapt from the car and sprinted ahead, diving into the kitchen. Alfred was still dressed in his suit as he stirred the pot on the stove.

“I’m assuming Master Bruce is planning on having a short night?”

“He brought three.”

“Oh,” He hummed, spooning some of the gooey mac and cheese into a stainless steel bowl. He placed it in front of Dick, then joined him at the table.

“Do you ever wish he would choose one persona one day and stick with it?” Dick asked as he speared some noodles.

“Every day, Master Dick.”

“I don’t know who I like more. Bruce actually shows emotion, sometimes. But Batman… he’s this mountain of security and well, no emotion.”

“He’s been much more emotional since you’ve come into our lives,” Alfred poured himself a glass of brandy.

Dick laughed. “Oh, you’re serious?”

“Indeed, Master Dick. As serious as Batman. He was quite, sacrificial – shall we say – before he adopted you. Now, it is time for bed, Master Dick.” Alfred took the empty plate away from him, heading into the kitchen to clean up. 

Dick went up to his bedroom, walking up the grand staircase. He forgot just too often how splendiferous Wayne Manor was. When he had first arrived, Bruce had given him a tour.

_“The Waynes have been a part of Gotham since the beginning. My family comes from a long history of hunters, timber, mining and various other enterprises. But I have focused more giving back to the city. It was my parents dream. This staircase,” He paused, gesturing to the cherry wood. “was where my parents announced their initiative to help Gotham’s mentally handicapped. Do you see those paintings, Dick?_

_“Those are the Waynes. It’s my family. Soon to be yours, if you’ll have us.”_

_“Us?” Dick asked, looking up at the tall, muscular man._

_“Alfred and I. I’d… like to adopt you. Make you my ward.”_

_Dick looked at the stern faces that surrounded the stairs. He could see bits and pieces of Bruce in the faces and families that lined the stairs. Dick nodded._

_“Okay,” He beamed._

Now, as he laid in his bed and stared out at the distant Gotham skyline. He was Dick Grayson, the ward of Bruce Wayne, who was currently making a lot of unnecessary noises. His small hand reached for his universal remote, clicking on the stereo and turning it up so he couldn’t hear anything. Dick settled into the plush bed, falling asleep before he knew it.

His nightmare started as it always did. He stood, watching as the cables that held up his mother and father fell. The Batman descends, refusing to kill Zucco. The rage builds in Dick’s chest until it breaks free in a blood curdling scream. He reaches for Zucco, a green gloved hand stretching. But Bruce’s hand grabs his own, pulling Dick out of his Robin costume.

“The code, Dick. Don’t forget it,” Bruce – No, Batman – hissed. “Because if you do, I’ll forget the code, too.”

And his face morphs into Joker’s, who cackles as he tosses Dick into a vat of boiling acid.

“Dick, you’re okay.” The Joker’s smile grows larger into a snarl. “You’re home, Dick, you are safe.”

“Bruce!” Dick screamed, pushing the Joker away. “Bruce! Help me! He’s going to kill me!”

And then Dick is awake, cradled in Bruce’s arms. Bruce had red marks on his face from where Dick’s tiny fists had hit him. He looks up at his mentor, his father, and cries. Bruce stayed with his son all night, telling him about the times that he was dragged to galas with his parents. He told Dick stories about his training, how on his first day he was beaten to a bloody pulp and then some. He told Dick about the first Batsuit he made. It was flimsy material that ripped every time he used his ascension cable. As he launched into another story about his first time returning home from his first batman escapade, he noticed that Dick was softly snoring. He gripped Bruce’s white tee shirt in a vice grip. 

Bruce knew that the models would be pissed that he left, but fatherhood came before being a playboy.


End file.
